Ella POV:
I shot up in bed, my heart hammering against my ribs as the realization hit me like a freight train. Did Jason use protection?
Oh, shit.
Panic clawed at my chest as I tried to think back to last night. It had all been a blur—the drug messing with my head, Jason finding me, the heat of his body against mine, the way he held me like I was the most precious thing in the world. I groaned, running my hands through my hair. How could I have forgotten to ask?!
I wasn't some clueless girl. I was Ella Kingsley. My father raised me to be sharp, ruthless, and in control. Yet, here I was, sitting in my bed, clutching the sheets, and having a full-blown meltdown because I might have just let Jason—Jason of all people—knock me up.
Okay. Deep breath.
There was a chance nothing happened. A small chance. Jason was reckless, but he wasn't stupid… right?
My stomach twisted. Oh, God. I needed to talk to him.
But before I could do that, my mind snapped back to Jake.
That bastard.
